Futuna

we sailed ten days across the ocean
and found ourselves on a tropical island
staring in the mouth of a volcano
and watching the children play
with their blond hair glowing under the sun
and their black skin glowing with their smiles
the John Frum cult played three chords till dawn
and we set sail for Futuna
the island of children and the old
there we sang at church, in Bislama
and we ate their taro cakes
we showed them how to make paper airplanes
and that whole afternoon
we watched paper airplanes fly
amid screams of laughter
and joy and love
we left the next day
giant pearl moon in the sky
faint fires on the island that disappeared in the dark
the stars, the stars, the stars
more adventures to come
new islands, new sunsets, new lives to discover
the water, the sky... and time
time after time we said our hellos and our goodbyes

Clark got married in San Francisco,
Ian builds houses in the west,
Jim is a professor in Mexico City,
and I mostly just do this and that
this and that.